


Nothing

by happy_lettuce_leaf



Series: Tony stark is an actual father [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Tony is a good dad, Tony stark gives Peter Parker the hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-10 19:43:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19911148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happy_lettuce_leaf/pseuds/happy_lettuce_leaf
Summary: her eyes, her hair, her mouth, her blood, her silence, her-nothing.Peter Parker was empty, void of everything. he was-nothingor:Peter experiences the first person he couldn't save and Tony is there to pick up the pieces.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello all mi amigos 
> 
> trigger warning for nightmares and a panic attack. the description may be a little intense? idk I don't think so but some viewers might.
> 
> also, cussing.

She had eyes that were melted dark chocolate, so dark they were almost black. They were staring up at the sky, unmoving, reflecting the clouds above. Empty. Her hair was black, but it was so soaked in blood it looked dark red. There was so much blood- overwhelmingly so- that her hair was floating around her head like she was in a bath. Peter knew better. He put a hand to her wrist to check the pulse and his ear to her mouth. 

Nothing.

Peter’s vision blurred, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her eyes, from her hair, from the blood. It was covering him, eating him alive, sticky on his hands and drenching his legs as he kneeled next to her. 

Nothing.

Peter could hear his pulse, loud in his ear, and felt the vomit come up, rising out of his chest. He uncovered the mask and threw up all over the pavement, beginning to mix with the pool of blood beneath her. He could distantly hear Karen’s voice in his ear, but he couldn’t hear anything except for his own breath, his own heartbeat, the sound of her silence, of-

Nothing. 

Her mouth was overflowed with blood, dripping out, overpouring. No pulse, no sound, no breath, nothing. Peter let out a sob, the tears making it hard to see and the vomit dripping from his chin. Too late. He was too late. He couldn’t look away from the person, the once-living, once-breathing, once-laughing person in front of him. The dead person in front of him. 

The word hit him like a punch and he recoiled, flinching back from the girl in front of him, tearing away his gaze as he heard sirens in the distance. But were they in the distance or were they close? Everything was underwater and her couldn’t tell, he didn’t know what to do, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. 

Nothing.

But then he was moving, hs body taking his to an unknown location, but he didn’t really care where he was going. As long as it was away, away from those eyes and the hair and the blood, away from the nothing. 

Peter didn’t realize he was going to the compound until he was there. Until he saw the familiar doors and the grand entrance. Then he went to the only place he could think of, which was the bathroom. 

The first thing he did was vomit in the toilet, not caring that he had left the door wide open and that anyone could come in and find out spider man's identity, not caring that he had left a trail of blood on the white entrance carpet. Nothing mattered anymore. Because she was gone, and he wasn’t there in time. 

Nothing.

Peter spent the next few minutes hunched over a toilet, not thinking about her hair floating around her, her eyes like melted chocolate, her mouth filled with blood. His vomit mixed with his tears.

He didn’t even register that someone had walked in the restroom until there was a hand on his shoulder. He jumped violently, and backed into a corner of the restroom, the blood on his suit leaving marks on the tile. 

“Its Tony, Tony, here. It's just me.”

Tony? Tony. Tony was safe.

He bent over the toilet again but found there was nothing left to throw up. 

Nothing. No pulse no breath no sound no air. Her eyes, staring up unblinking. 

He dry heaved nothing into the toilet, then collapsed against the cold, bloody tile of the bathroom. He had no energy left, nothing of anything at all. He was empty, hollow. Nothing. 

The next thing he knew he was surrounded by warmth, in someone’s arms. Who’s arms?

“Tony. It’s just Tony.”

Oh. Tony. Tony was safe. 

And then he was sobbing against Tony, clutching his shirt and crying into it. Tony wrapped one arm around hm and held Peter’s head to his chest with the other, rocking them both back and forth steadily and whispering reassurances into Peter's ear. 

Peter didn’t know how long they sat there, only that his first words when he finally calmed down enough to talk were, “Tony, I lost her. I lost her.”

Tony just shushed him, then helped him up and supported most of his weight as they made their way to the elevator. Peter was still crying softly and too weak to move when they made it to their floor. Tony helped him and practically carried him to Tony’s room. 

He sat Peter on the floor of the bathroom next to the toilet, left, then came back with a fresh set of clothes. He turned on the water and slowly undressed Peter from his suit. He was too tired and too empty to care that Tony was seeing him naked. He sat cross legged on the floor of the shower as the cool water rushed over him, savoring the way it ran paths against his skin and washed the blood away. And suddenly he needed to scrub it away, and his nails dug into his skin, trying to get rid of the way it felt against his skin, trying to forget the pool of her blood, her empty eyes, and her silence.

Tony gently but firmly took Peter’s hands in his own and rubbed soap on them and the rest of his body, washing the sticky blood out of his hair. Peter resisted the urge to scrub his hands, over and over again. He wanted, he needed, to wash the blood away, to wash away her eyes and her hair and her nothing. Her silence. 

“Kid, you gotta stop, okay?” Tony’s voice was firm above him as he took Peter’s hands in his own again and pulled him up and out of the shower, grabbing a towel and beginning to dry him off. 

“Tony-” Peter choked on his words and struggled to continue.

“Shh, kid. You don’t have to talk right now.”

As soon as Peter was dressed he collapsed into Tony, who held onto him tightly. 

“Dad- she was right there. Her eyes, her hair, blood, oh God-” more sobs racked his body, and Tony gently led him to the bed, where he propped up pillows and laid Peter down. He adjusted the blankets and climbed in after Peter, then moved around so Peter was leaning on his chest. 

“I don’t know if I can go out there again.” Peter whispered after a minute, his voice rough from crying. 

“We’ll work that out tomorrow, okay? For now, get some sleep. You’re exhausted. I’ll be here, right with you, the whole time.” Tony’s voice soothed Peter, and he found himself drifting off into sleep. 

Her blood, blood everywhere, coating him, up his chest, his arms, his face. He choked, couldn’t breathe couldn’t breathe couldn’t breath HE COULDN’T BREATHE. And her eyes, unmoving, wait, they were moving, towards him, landing on him. But she wasn’t breathing and he wasn’t breathing and her blood was everywhere, choking him, her hand rose up and gripped his neck and-

Peter awoke with a scream, so shrill and so gut-wrenching he wasn’t even aware it had come from himself. He sat up quickly and threw the covers back, making sure that he wasn’t covered in blood. He wasn’t, but he still couldn’t breathe-

“Breathe Peter, you need to breathe. It’s Tony, Peter, It’s Tony. Come on, you’re safe.”

Tony he was safe Tony was safe Tony could help him breathe and help him-

“You feel my chest? How it is rising up and down? How it’s breathing? Breathe like that Peter. Copy my breathing.”

Peter could do that. Peter could copy Tony. 

Soon he found himself a little bit more relaxed, leaned up against Tony, who was still whispering reassurances in his ear. He had put on a movie, Peter couldn’t really tell which one, but the noise helped the images of her quiet down. Of her eyes, her hair, her-

Tony. Focus on Tony. 

He woke up 3 more times from nightmares, all of which Tony helped him calm down from. The final time he woke up it wasn’t from nightmares, but from the afternoon sun streaming in through the window. Tony was still next to him, still rubbing his shoulder gently. Peter smiled a little, before he remembered. Her hair. Her eyes. Her blood.

“Awake?” Tony asked next to him. Peter nodded and sat up slowly. He was surprisingly thirsty, but he had been crying all night. On the nightstand, he found a glass of ice water and a stack of pancakes. He picked up the water and drank from it, but not the pancakes. His stomach turned inside out and flipped around when he thought of taking a bite of food.

“You probably aren’t hungry. I couldn’t eat a bite of food for days after my first death,” Tony said next to him, and Peter nodded in confirmation. They sat there in silence before Tony suggested a movie, which Peter agreed to. They ended up watching Star Wars, one of Peter’s favorites. 

“Tony? I-I don’t think I can go back out,” Peter stated somewhere in the middle of the movie. Tony paused it and looked over at Peter with hurt in his eyes. 

“Kid, I know its hard. I know it is. To see someone like that... it takes time to want to keep going. But that want? It will come back. Because in the end you realize what I realized- that you save more people then you don’t. That it is worth it for the little girl that you saved from the Chitauri, or the man that will get to come home to his son again. There is a lot of families you get to reunite. A lot of lives you get to save. I understand you might not want to right now, and it is okay even if you don’t want to for months, or years, or for the rest of your life, but for me it is always worth it. Is it worth it to you?” 

Peter thought for a while, everything Tony had said sinking into him.

“I’m not ready now, and I probably won’t be for a while, but I’ll get there again.”

Tony smiled at him, as bright and as brilliant as the sun, and while Peter couldn’t muster a smile, he gave a small grin in return. 

The next few days were hard for Peter, but Tony was there with him through it all. He talked to Tony about everything that had happened, and Tony understood. Tony held him when he cried, and listened patiently to him, never once interrupting. 

But eventually, Peter had to go back to May, and Tony had to get back to Stark Industries and SHIELD and being Iron Man. The goodbye was hard, but Tony promised Lab Days twice a week (instead of only once a week), and that Peter could sleep over any time he wanted. 

Tony had smiled at Peter once he had agreed, and a warmth spread through Peter’s chest, so strong he had to smile back. They gave each other a hug, then Peter got in the car and Happy drove him back up to his apartment. 

Peter didn’t miss the wave and the warm smile Tony gave him by the entrance door as he drove away. He knew Tony couldn’t see him, but he smiled back anyway. He pulled out his phone and began typing.

Spidey: Thanks for taking care of me these past few days. I don’t know what I would've done if you hadn’t been there. 

TONY FUCKING STARK OMFG: no problem kid. I’ll see you on wednesday.


	2. Okay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a normal night when it hit Peter.
> 
> He wasn’t okay. 
> 
> He called the first person he could think of: Tony Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo everyone
> 
> So it’s been a while since I made the first chapter but I haven’t had service for like two weeks so yea.
> 
> I hope all of you enjoy!! This was a random idea at first and I didn’t know where I was going with it??? But it’s all good now.
> 
> Also, forever and always, cussing.

Peter couldn’t stop seeing her face at night. The blood leaked from her eyes and mouth as the dropped the tons of concrete on him. The blood coated the alley where he kneeled next to her, and it was costing him, choking him. 

He woke up and couldn’t breathe. 

But Peter was okay. He was fine, and he was coping. After the nightmare, he would put on his Spider-Man suit and go out patrolling. He would come back and go to school, and for the first week or so it was fine. It was going fine. It’s not like Peter kept getting increasingly tired and irritable. It’s not like he wasn’t coping. 

But really, Peter was fine. Peter was coping. Peter could handle it. Peter was fine.

Peter wasn’t fine. 

It was one night (or morning) at 3 a.m., that Peter realized this. It wasn’t anything in particular that set him off, just the sudden realization that he shouldn’t be patrolling this late, that he wasn’t sleeping well, that he wasn’t normal, and that something was wrong with him.

The realization took his breath away, and he swung on top of a building to catch his breath. When he was up high like this, he usually felt better. The cool breeze helped clear his mind, but in this case, it did anything but. The anxiety began to peek in, a sharp knife driving into his thoughts. 

SomethingswrongwithhimHeisntokayHewasneverokaySomethingswrongwithhimHeshouldntbefeelinglikethis-

In the midst of his panic, he needed someone. Anyone. He called the first person he could think of. 

“Kid? Are you-“

“Tony I’m not okay and something wrong with me and I shouldn’t be feeling like this something is wrong with me I’m not okay, Help me dad I’m not okay-“

“Woah, woah kid. Where are you? Bullet wound? Stabbed? Are you okay? Karen, vitals.”

Peter cringed back. 

Hewasgoingtosaypeterwasstupudbecausehewasstupid-

“No, no I’m fine I just I’m sorry, i know I’m stupid I’ll just leave you alone now-“

Tears began streaming down his face, and his breathing was still rapid and panicked. It didn’t help that Tony was going to think he was stupid and was going to say he was stupid because that’s what he was-

“Kid! Listen to me. You’re not stupid, okay? You’re fine. I was just worried you about to die. Anxiety, you know, fun fucker. Anyway, just lay it out for me. I’m on my way now.”

Peter relaxed at his words, and practically melted in relief. Tony was going to help him Tony was going to make it all okay.

“I’m not okay,” he said.

“Yeah Kid, you’ve mentioned. Why?” Tony’s voice was so gentle, so very Tony, that it made Peter want to curl up on the ground and sob because Tony would understand and Tony would always understand. 

That’s exactly what he did. Curling up into a tight ball, he sobbed more, if that was even possible. Tony would always catch him. Tony would understand. Tony, Tony, tony. 

“I- um- nightmares- I can’t fucking sleep and and I’m so tired and I can’t sleep I shouldn’t be out here this late I shouldn’t be feeling like this I know it’s stupid and I can’t sleep and will I ever stop seeing her face? I can’t sleep I should be out here this late I should be able to sleep-“

Peter’s voice cracked and he cried even harder. 

“Woah, woah kid, slow down. Slow down. Take a breath, okay? Take five breaths and then keep talking to me.”

Peter tried, he really did, but the air had left him and he gasped like a fish out of water, making a horrible retching noise. He gagged a little, saw her eyes, saw her hair, saw the concrete, saw the blood and it was costing him the blood was everywhere and it was just like when he first found her eyes were full of blood empty empty he was empty nothing nothing empty-

He threw up on the ground, saw it mixing with her blood, saw her, saw her, heard her silence, her nothing, empty empty empty nothing nothing silence-

“Kid, you gotta focus on me, okay? Focus on my voice. No concrete. She’s not here, it’s just Tony. Just Tony. Breathe, breathe,” Tony said, his voice soft and comforting and so Tony. 

Peter heard the repulsers land before he saw them. His vision was grainy and blurry, and he stumbled over to Tony, tripping over himself to get to him. 

He felt the warm arms, felt Tony, smelled Tony, Tony, his Tony. Felt his shirt and his skin. Tony was there. Tony was going to help him. He felt the ground under him and realized Tony had lowered them both down. 

He felt his hand on Tony’s chest, felt Tony put Peter’s hand on his chest, and he was warm and he was there and breathing. Tony took breaths, and Peter did the same. Peter breathed. Peter breathed. Peter breathed. 

“Good job kid. You’re doing great. I’m proud of you, Peter. You’re doing good. You’re breathing. You’re here.”

More tears, more tears, more tears. Tony rocked him back and forth silently, whispering reassurances in his ear. 

“Kid, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to deal with this. I had no clue. I should’ve checked in with you about mental health shit, I’m sorry I didn’t. You should not have to deal with this.”

Peter shook his head immediately. 

“No, no, Tony, I didn't even know I wasn’t okay. I didn’t even know something was wrong with me.”

“Nothing is wrong with you, kid,” Tony said so softly that Peter barely heard him. He sensed the emotional tension in Tony’s voice, so he just nodded. 

“Come on, let’s go back to the tower, yeah? We can work it out there.” Peter nodded, and Tony picked him up in his suit, then blasted off. 

**********

“I have a plan. Neatly compiled on our way over here.”

Peter nodded, his hands shaking a little. Did the plan involve telling May? He really didn’t want to do that. Really didn’t feel like doing that. 

“First, you call me. When you can’t sleep, when you can sleep, when you have a panic attack like the one you just had, when you don’t. I want to know. I’ll be expecting calls at three in the morning or three in the afternoon. Either way, any way, you call me at least once a day, we good?” 

Peter nodded.

“Second, we’re going to get you connected with a therapist, okay?”

Peter didn’t nod. 

“What are you thinking? I can tell you’re thinking,” Tony said, looking at Peter skeptically. 

Peter took a breath and formulated his thoughts. 

“I want to get better but if I do admit that then I’m also admitting that I need help in the first place and I-“ Peter’s hands started to shake and tears sprang to his eyes. Tony’s face melted and he pulled Peter into him. 

“Peter, it’s okay to ask for help. It's not a sign of weakness, but it’s strength, and Peter? I’m so fucking proud of you. You’re so much better than I ever was. So much better.” 

Peter choked on his words, feeling anything but strong, feeling anything but better.”

“I don’t feel strong, Tony.”

“But you are.” 

Peter was silent for a minute and let his tears die down before he spoke again. 

“How did you get over it?” 

“Over what?” 

“You’re first- first death.”

Tony sighed and rubbed Peter’s back gently. 

“His name was Yinsen. You know how I was held captive in Afganistán?” Peter nodded. “Well, we were escaping. He told me about his family, said he wanted to get back to them. He told me at the end his family was dead. Told me not to waste my life. He’s the only thing that kept me alive in there.” He pauses for a long while. “I never got over it. I still have nightmares, but that’s because I coped with it in really unhealthy ways, and never got around to decompacting it front the back of my mind until I was seeing Mina.”

“Mina?”

“My therapist. The one I’m going to hook you up with.” 

“Oh.” Peter didn’t know what to say, so he just held Tony a little tighter and didn’t say anything. 

“Kid, it’s hard, but you gotta talk to me next time, okay? You know you can talk to me?” 

Was that… desperation? In his voice? He nodded. 

“Of course,” He said, playing off Tony’s question like he didn’t hear his tone. He could sense Tony’s insecurity, though, and knew he needed to do something more. He looked into the chocolate brown eyes. 

“Of course, I love you,” He said quietly, softly. Tony looked away, and Peter didn’t miss the way his eyes looked a little wet. 

“Yeah Kid. Love you too,” He said gruffly, pulling away from Peter and standing up, heading towards the kitchen. Peter smiled. He knew he had caught Tony off guard, and in those rare moments where Tony was completely unprepared and has no masks, Peter knew he was seeing Tony. Not Tony Stark, not Stark, not Iron man, just Tony, Tony, his Tony. 

“I’m making hot chocolate. You want some?” He asked, throwing the question over his shoulder casually, as if he had not been stripped of his masks. 

“‘Course,” was Peter’s response, still smiling. He didn’t follow Tony quite yet, waiting for Tony to tell him he was ready again. When he was composed again. 

“You going to help or not. Come on, you just have to put the cocoa on the shelf I can’t reach, don’t you?” Peter laughed and went to join Tony, hearing the genius’ smile from the living room.

He jumped onto the ceiling, got it, and held it out to Tony with a smirk. Tony rolled his eyes and muttered something Peter couldn’t distinguish. He laughed anyway. 

They spent the rest of the night taking jabs at each other and laughing together, eventually playing a round of monopoly which ended in spilt hot chocolate and thrown Monopoly money and pieces. 

But Peter knew Tony was just holding off the inevitable, and he knew Tony noticed when Peter’s eyes started dropping. He smiled, a little sadly, at Peter and suggested they go to bed. Peter’s heart rate spiked and anxiety seized him. 

“Okay,” He said weakly, dreading the pillow, dreading the dreams and nightmares. 

“I’m sorry Kid, but you need it. I see your eyes, kid. You’re tired,” Tony said, standing up. 

Peter nodded and did the same. He made his way to bed slowly, trailing behind Tony. 

He made it to bed and hit the pillow with his eyes dropping. Tony rubbed his thumb along Peter’s forehead and gently massaged his hair. Peter relaxed into it, and then Tony was leaving and he was falling asleep. 

**********

He sat bolt upright, his limbs tangled in the sheets, his shirt sticking to him with sweat. He got up. He needed out he needed out go go go GO GO GOGOGOGOGO-

He practically ran from the room, stumbling to Tony’s door and pausing at it. Tony would hate him. Tony would think he’s weak because he can’t handle a Fucking Nightmare he can’t he can’t he can’t-

“Kid?” Tony’s voice. Tony Tony Tony Tony Tony He was in Tony’s arms, his Tony, his Tony. 

Warm. Tony was warm and Tony was telling him to breathe, so that’s what he should do, right? He should breathe just breathe breathe breathe.

He was breathing, Peter was breathing. Peter was there, with Tony, and Tony was there and would always be there. 

“Kid, let's get you to bed, yeah? No more your bed. You’re gonna come with me, okay? I’ll be with you when you wake up again.” Peter nodded and relaxed with relief. And then he was in Tony’s arms and being carried to bed, and Tony was there and Tony was always going to be there. 

The thought made him smile, even though he was still shaky and sweaty and already falling asleep.

“What?” Tony asked. 

“You’re always gonna be there. S’ nice.” 

He thought he saw Tony smiling before he went to sleep. 

Peter found he wasn’t worried about nightmares that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m in need of prompts cuz I wanna write I just don’t know what to write about. So if you likey and want more, ask plz. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please review!! Even if you didn’t like!! Tell me what I can do better!!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! kudos are much appreciated. if there is anything I can do to improve, please let me know in the comments.
> 
> also, I'm thinking of doing a continuation of this called relapse where Peter sees a movie or something that reminds him of the girl who died and sends him panicking. lemme know what you think.


End file.
